


Dripping Water

by Porphyrios



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, Dwarven Politics, Fluff, Halls of Mandos, M/M, Magic Mirrors, Mahal - Freeform, Thorin Briefly Wishes His Ancestors Weren't So Adventurous In Bed, Unnamed Horrors, Valinor, bit of silliness, mining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porphyrios/pseuds/Porphyrios
Summary: Bilbo and Thorin are finally reunited in the Halls of Aule (and the Gardens of Yavanna).  But Bilbo is mystified by the Hall of Mirrors, specifically the giant mirror in the back.  Who could need such a huge mirror?  When he finds out, things get interesting.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Thorin's Ancestor/Middle Earth Megafauna
Comments: 24
Kudos: 147





	Dripping Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tamloid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamloid/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Typical Dwarrow Afterlife, as told by Thorin Oakenshield](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27412891) by [Tamloid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamloid/pseuds/Tamloid). 



> This was in response to a truly wonderful story by Tamloid dedicated to me, in which the observation was made of a giant mirror in the Hall of Mirrors. Being the weirdo that I am, I immediately thought "what would need a mirror that big to show it?" This was the result of my curiosity. See end note for relevant JRRT quote :)

Thorin Oakenshield was having a better afterlife than he ever thought possible.

At first, being with Bilbo was overwhelming; there was no part of his sensorium which was not pointed due hobbit. After so many years apart, and so little time spent together, it seemed in the dwarf's midnight ruminations that it should have been more difficult, somehow. Bilbo had known Thorin as a captain, as a king, as a madman (to his everlasting shame), and finally as a friend. He had never even told Bilbo that he loved him, a fault which he remedied on a daily basis now that they were reunited in the Halls of Mahal. What Thorin hadn't known, and hadn't really suspected, was that his growing affection had been so clearly visible to the hobbit. Bilbo's life in the Shire had trained him to read the most subtle social signals; he laughingly described Thorin as "about as subtle in your affections as one of Dain's pigs" which offended the king for almost five minutes... close to a record, given the sweetness of hobbitish apologetic kisses. 

Together they walked the Halls, admiring the seemingly infinite array of crafts produced by happy dwarves and laid up against any conceivable need. Together, they walked the Gardens of Yavanna as well, admiring the unbelievable array of flowers and herbs, plants and trees that the Vala had made for the enjoyment of her children. Thorin found the Ents a bit terrifying, but he endured them for Bilbo. It seemed only fair since Bilbo tolerated Thorin's enjoyment of the forges of Telchar, though his exposed skin was red and sensitive for a day after each visit. They wandered and spoke, caught up and reminisced, and Bilbo was shocked at how Thorin could possibly know the things he did about Bilbo's life. When Thorin explained the magic of the Hall of Mirrors, he thought Bilbo would be amazed. That seemed to be the case, though not in a positive way.

"So you were spying on me?" the hobbit asked a bit crossly, glaring up at Thorin from where he sat on a bench in the rose maze they had been exploring.

" _Azyungel_ ," Thorin sighed, "hardly spying! Each dwarf has a mirror in the Hall of Mirrors to see their One. I couldn't..." he trailed off helplessly, shrugging and holding out his hands.

"You couldn't, could you?" Bilbo sniffed, tamping the pipeweed he had just gotten into his pipe and glaring at it, though Thorin saw with relief that the corners of the hobbit's mouth seemed to be fighting the frown a bit. "Peeping at me in the bath, I don't doubt, and me there all alone missing you. Had a good time of it, did you?" Thorin spluttered in shock at the idea.

"I would never...!" he began, then snorted, realizing belatedly that he was being teased. "Yes," he said finally in a heavy voice, "fine, I suppose I might as well confess. I did. Constantly. You wouldn't believe how many times Frerin or Kili caught me with my hand in my trousers sitting in the Hall, watching you in the mirror." He made a show of shame, staring at the ground but peeping up through his eyelashes at the hobbit who, for once, was speechless.

"You did not!" he finally stammered out. "Thorin Oakenshield, I cannot..." peering at Thorin in turn, he huffed a laugh and glanced away, fighting the smile that was taking over his face. "Fine, I suppose I deserved that." Bilbo lit his pipe and drew deeply, blowing a smoke ring into the sunlight. The dwarf's deep belly laugh made Bilbo grin in spite of himself.

Thorin sat next to the hobbit, leaning in to sniff his curls. He loved the smell of Bilbo and he had missed it so much, baking and sunlight and green grasses, and if his nose happened to slide along the hobbit's ear and make the slight form beside him tense and sigh, whose fault was that? "I tried not to see anything like that, _azyungel_ ," he whispered into a delicate pointed ear, welcoming the shiver that went through Bilbo, "for I might very well have had to embarrass myself in such a way. But I would feel bad, to watch you without you knowing in a private moment, no matter how beautiful you are." He pressed a gentle kiss into the smooth skin below the ear, wrapping his arm around the hobbit. "And I feared that you would find another, someone else to warm your bed, and I... couldn't have watched that without..." he trailed off.

"Oh Thorin," Bilbo sighed softly, "there could never have been anyone else after you, you great lump of a dwarf. I wasn't... well, anyway, enough about that," the hobbit said, changing the subject decisively. "Show me this Hall of Mirrors, then, where you spied on me. I'd like to see it."

"It was not spying!" Thorin insisted, and they both thoroughly enjoyed their bickering as they passed back through the gate into the Mountainhalls, other dwarves passing by glancing at them in amusement or shock, depending on if the dwarf in question had known about the hobbit or not. They took the long route, going through the Halls of Music and pausing for a moment to hear a Firebeard almost as small as Bilbo play a harp as tall as a tall man so perfectly it brought tears to the eyes. From there, they passed by one of the many feasthalls to get Bilbo a quick bite ("Hobbits," Thorin laughed, and received a soft kick in the shin for his troubles) and then across the Waterlight Bridge, where two enormous cataracts thundered down on either side of the bridge and the crystal lamps cast rainbows in all directions. By the time they got to the Hall of Mirrors, they were both a bit winded but Bilbo was entranced as soon as he got inside.

"Thorin, look!" he called out. "These are so beautiful! So many of them, too... there's one that has the... well, a lot of them have the key patterns of Erebor! Look at this one, it's lovely, what's... oh, is this... Thorin, is this one Elvish?" Bilbo asked.

"Aye," Thorin said sheepishly. "It seems odd to me, but it seems that some dwarves can have Ones among the elves. I wouldn't like it when I was alive, but given that my One is a hobbit, I don't suppose I can say much, now can I?" He received a kiss on the tip of his nose and a quick smile before Bilbo was off again, furry feet flashing as he scampered around looking. 

"This one is shaped like a door, that one like a... well, I'm not sure what that is," Bilbo said, staring at the irregularly shaped confection of metal and glass. "Here's... oh Thorin, look, a camellia flower!" Thorin grinned and followed behind his love as the hobbit wandered further in, identifying things that to the dwarf were just "flowers" or "leaves". Of course, he thought fondly, to one of Yavanna's children they meant much more, in the same way that Bilbo described carnelian as "that pretty orange stone" but couldn't tell it from the sun jade it was set beside. By the time he caught up to the hobbit, Bilbo was standing before an enormous mirror that stretched from floor to ceiling. "Thorin? What sort of person is this big?" the hobbit asked quietly.

"I don't know," the king was forced to admit. He vaguely recalled seeing this off in the distance when he was watching Bilbo through his own mirror, but since none of the others showed anything but a reflection, it hadn't caught his attention. "We could ask, I suppose." Bilbo nodded, and Thorin suggested perhaps more food, knowing that would draw any hobbit away from anything. As they left, he forgot about the mirror.

Thorin may have forgotten, but he soon learned Bilbo had not. He asked Thrain and Thror at the next family meal, though they were no more knowledgeable about it than Thorin had been. The hobbit seemed to develop a bit of an obsession about it to Thorin's chagrin, asking random dwarrow in the halls as they passed. Nobody seemed to know anything until one day, as they were sitting in the feasthall that had become the unofficial realm of the line of Durin in Erebor, two strange dwarves wandered in. Thorin and Bilbo were lounging at the table with Fili, Kili, Frerin, Balin and Ori (who spent more time with Balin and the boys than with his own family). One was clearly a Longbeard, wearing the braids and mithril beads of Khazad-Dum in a thick head and beard of dark brown hair, but the other was... frankly odd-looking, Thorin thought. He'd never seen a dwarf with such coloring; the hair was mostly left unbraided and was the thick, oily black of chipped obsidian, hanging in thick hanks down past their shoulders. Their skin was pale as a fish's belly. Their beard was shortish and loose without any of the usual beads and decorations, and the dwarf's lips were an odd color as well, more a cold purpleish than the usual pink or red. Their eyes were an eerie solid black, mirroring the slick, oily shine of the hair.

"Who here is asking about the big mirror?" the Longbeard asked brusquely. Bilbo hunched a bit in his chair, peering cautiously at the strange-looking dwarf. Balin stood and smiled, always a diplomat Thorin grinned, even in death.

"Welcome, welcome, I see you are our kin from Khazad-Dum," Balin said, giving his best bland smile. "Welcome to the halls of the line of Durin in Erebor! And you are?" The dwarves looked at each other and the Longbeard grinned; the other stayed expressionless, shrugging.

"Well are some of the children of Durin known to me, or were at least when I was alive." The dwarf grinned sardonically and gave a short bow, "I am Gror, son of Fror, and I would introduce my _azyungel_ Klûk to you as well. He and I have been together since I lived, and that mirror was ours." He gestured to the other dwarf who smiled, displaying teeth that seemed very sharp.

"I greet," he said in a voice ridiculously deep even for a dwarf, seeming to vibrate in the air. "I am Klûk." Thorin resisted the urge to shake his head, though he stared in disbelief. That wasn't a name, that was a sound; _klûk_ was mining slang for the sound of dripping water, not a proper dwarf name that anyone would give to their child! Bilbo was eyeing him as though Thorin knew some secret, but he shook his head and shrugged. Before the conversation progressed, though, a shout came from the entrance down the hall.

"Gror you filthy rockworm!" One of the kings of old Khazad-Dum came striding forward, grinning ear to ear under the unmistakable mithril circlet, elaborately braided black beard almost tripping him up. "I haven't seen you for over three hundred years, you bastard! Where have you been? And what brings you up here to the new arrivals area?" Thorin didn't know him, but he hadn't met most of the really old ones. They had a different hall deeper in the mountain, he remembered. Bilbo looked confused by everything going on and he took a chance to run a comforting hand up the hobbit's back and draw him close. Looking past Gror, the king saw the other dwarf and his face fell a bit, smile becoming strained. "Klûk, good to see you again." The strange dwarf bobbed his head in an almost-bow, expression remaining unchanged.

"Farin! How's my brother?" Thorin assumed that this must be Farin I, son of Fror III and grandson of Durin III, which put him just before the Noldor settled in Eregion, but... _brother_?!? Thorin couldn't have been more astonished if an elf had come in the hall claiming to be related to Durin. He felt a small hand clasp his and realized that his face must be showing his shock. Now that he thought about it and examined Gror, he could see signs of kinship in the shape of his nose and eyes, the texture of his hair, but... this was a distant relation? Life in the Halls was strange from time to time, but this took the prize. "Heard someone had been asking a bunch of questions about my mirror, came to see what the fuss was. Sorry I've been out of the halls for a while, we've been off visiting the relatives in the down-deep!" For the first time the strange dwarf (Klûk?) changed expression from the usual blankness to one of irritation.

"Eldest not relate, silly dwarf," he rumbled, sounding as surly as his expression. "Klûk tell you many time. Don't even look alike, we. But you always say." A huff of exasperation followed by a fond look made Thorin realize that however strange the dwarf might look, the couple knew each other well.

"I know, my love," Gror said with an affectionate smile, "but it's funny, I promise. Speaking of... who is it that's been asking everyone they could find about my mirror?" He looked around, stopping for a moment in shock at the sight of Bilbo. Thorin stood.

"King Farin, be welcome in the halls of the Durins of Erebor, you honor us." Farin grinned but nodded, clearly a dwarf with little interest in the proprieties though Balin looked pleased with Thorin. "Elder Gror," Thorin said, laying on extra politeness, "I greet you, ancient of my line. I am Thorin, son of Thrain, at your service. I apologize for any impropriety, I merely..." He barely heard a huff of irritation before a hobbit stepped in front of him, making Fili, Kili and Frerin immediately dissolve into giggles.

"Terribly sorry, what my husband means to say is that I was the one asking questions. Bilbo Baggins at your service," he said, bowing deeply and with a flourish Thorin thought he hadn't ever seen before, "and I do deeply apologize if my questions were inappropriate or in any way hurtful. Not my intention at all, I assure you. I merely thought the size of the mirror was unusual and I..." Gror's laugh interrupted him, but Thorin could see the light flush on each of Bilbo's cheekbones and knew that his husband was embarrassed.

"Aye, it's a fair size, isn't it?" Gror said, laughing again, casting a sideways glance at Klûk who just looked bored. "What manner of being are you, Bilbo Baggins at my service? Are you kin to my love as well?" Gror looked at his One, but Klûk turned to peer at Bilbo and shook his head.

"This I do not know," the odd looking dwarf rumbled, "but surface thing, not..." Klûk moved closer to Bilbo where he stood, wearing an intent expression. "Not like Eldest, but almost taste like. Taste like... something. Something old, know but don't like." The long, bunched hair moved oddly and Gror stepped over, placing a hand on his One's shoulder. "Know but not know, taste of almost-there cruel thing..." A hiss of frustration passed between those sharp teeth. Gror cast a suspicious glance at Bilbo, then at Thorin.

"I am a hobbit," Bilbo said, casting a wary eye at the seemingly disturbed Klûk. "My people are originally from the Gladden Fields southeast of M... Khazad-Dum, but in my time we dwell in the Shire, in Eriador to the west of the Misty Mountains, in what used to be the furthest west part of Arnor, if that means ought to you. I beg your pardon for not knowing the maps of your time," Bilbo said, a conversation quite familiar to anyone in the Halls. Bilbo was growing familiar with the look he was getting, so his next words were no shock to Thorin. "I suppose you are wondering how I came to have a dwarven One. Have a seat and I will explain. It all started with a wizard, as far as I was concerned..." As Bilbo spun the story of the trip to Erebor, he told of falling in the chasm in Goblin Town but he had barely mentioned finding the ring before Gror stopped him.

"Wait, Master Baggins, this ring," he said. "I met a dwarf named Dain, some kin of mine... were you by chance one of the little people who destroyed the ring of Sauron?" Bilbo nodded sheepishly, seeming to be surprised that the story had gotten around. Thorin grinned to himself; even a hobbit, as used as he was to gossip, underestimated the love of dwarves for a good story. He didn't doubt Durin himself had heard it by now. "Huh, fancy that," he said curiously, leaning into Klûk's arm around his shoulders, "go on."

By the time the story wound to a close, everyone present had gotten involved, mentioning new information or explaining connections or (in the case of Frerin) with questions of their own, despite hearing the story before. "... and so," Bilbo finally said, taking another drink from the tankard he'd been nursing as he spoke, "in the end I finally got to Yavanna's garden and demanded to be brought here immediately to give Aule a piece of my mind for the dreadful way he treated Thorin. I hadn't counted on Thorin being there for it but..." he gave a soppy look to Thorin, who returned it with interest, "at any rate, here we are." Gror laughed and clapped, and even Klûk seemed pleased.

"See, love?" Gror poked the pale dwarf. "It's the ring you tasted, wasn't it?" Thorin was beginning to get the impression that Gror was a professional troublemaker.

Klûk nodded in a bobbing motion, oddly graceful. "Yesss..." he dragged out the s, almost hissing, sounding pleased to solve the mystery. "Remember now, sent dead things to talk talk talk, so boring, try to get Eldest to come fight. Boring but tasted only like dust and rot." A shiver went through the dwarf's dangling hair again, almost like it was moving on its own. Thorin thought this was perhaps the creepiest dwarf he had ever met.

Thorin smiled as best he could. "It seems there is a story to your union as well," he said diplomatically. "If you are inclined to share." Gror laughed and cut his eyes at King Farin.

"They got a lot more polite since our time, _nadad_ ," he said to Farin's raucous laughter. "Alright, I suppose one good tale deserves another, though ours isn't so complicated. I was a miner," he said. "Good one, too." Farin nodded emphatically.

"He's being modest, he was bloody amazing. Loved it too. He was supposed to be king but gave the crown to me so he could mine." Gror snorted disdainfully.

"No patience for mucking around with crowns and meetings and all that _mahumb_ , when there's mithril to be dug," he laughed, then leaned back. Balin brought over fresh mugs for everyone and Ori looked like he was about to burst of unasked questions, but Gror took a pull of his beer, nodded at Balin and continued. "So I was down on the twelfth deep with a team, all the way at the bottom of a long shaft. The lode had twisted like a fish on a line, but I could feel it, yeah? I knew that stone, I knew that ore, and I knew I was going to get the last crumb of it before I left. Zirakzigil hid riches as it wished, but mine was the eye to find." Thorin recognized the old speech of the mines, though Bilbo looked a bit lost. He resolved to explain it later. "But the mountain was determined to hold its wealth to itself. Tuki broke through into a hidden hole, and stonesense did not show it. He caught himself." For some reason he elbowed his One at this point, and Klûk laughed and looked away. "I fell. It was a long way, and I had time to prepare to die, I fell that long. I knew that when I hit, I would be dwarf butter." They all laughed at the image, all except Bilbo who looked appalled. "But when I hit, I hit water. Deep below, there was a lake."

"Loud, too," Klûk muttered, shaking his head. "Like rockfall, but dwarf." Thorin shook his head. Even at that, hitting the water after that long a fall... Gror should have died as surely as if he'd hit rock. He was also staring at the pale dwarf, who sounded like he had been there. What _was_ he? Bilbo was eyeing the two of them as though he had the same questions, but Farin just looked bored and disturbed, presumably remembering thinking he had lost his brother.

"So I was there, and it was dark. Even for a stoneborn it was dark, couldn't see a damn thing. I'm in the water, figuring I've missed splatting just to drown, and what kind of switch up is that? Then something picks me up out of the water, neat as you please, and sets me on a flat rock. I feel something touching me and then there's another dwarf there." He grinned over at Klûk. "Couldn't talk, though, just kept making this water-dripping sound. Led me out of the tunnels, up to where I could find my way back to the mine, but imagine my surprise when the dwarf who saved me left me there and went back down without even a nod! Well, I wasn't having that, I owed this fellow my life, so I got some things together as a thank you present and returned below. He was waiting for me." Gror leaned over and kissed the other dwarf on the cheek. "Took a few years, I don't mind saying, but we got to be good friends and then eventually more. I found out after the first few visits that he wasn't what he seemed at first, but who among us is, truly?" Thorin noticed that Farin looked a bit queasy and wondered again just what was being said. He didn't know from personal experience, but the lore was clear: there were all sorts of things in the deep tunnels far below any mines, but none of them were considered friendly and most weren't survivable. He eyed Klûk uneasily.

"I'm sorry," Bilbo said softly, "but I'm afraid I don't understand. How was he down there? I didn't think dwarves lived so far down. I'm sorry if I'm being ignorant, I just..." he smiled nervously. "Not being a dwarf, I don't know a lot of things that are considered common knowledge." Gror's laugh was loud but not malicious.

"Come on, love, show him," he poked Klûk in the side, who glared at him.

"I hate when this you do," the pale dwarf grumbled. "Not for show. Treat me like pet. Klûk, go do trick. Always want to see face on others," The pale face took on a sudden eerie likeness to Gror, almost like the flesh and beard had rearranged themselves, though the coloring was the same. "Show, show, like to laugh, show, show," he said in a mocking tone. Gror harrumphed and turned away, crossing his arms and Klûk sighed loudly. "Fine," he rumbled, muttering something that was almost certainly uncomplimentary. "All stay here," he said, walking to the other side of the room. Thorin couldn't help noticing that the other dwarf moved oddly, more fluid than the normal stumping gait of a stoneborn. He shivered a bit and despite the feasting area being in a large hall, Thorin wrapped his arm protectively around Bilbo on a half-formed suspicion of what might be coming.

Klûk reached a large open space in front of the fireplace occasionally used for dancing. Suddenly the pale dwarf's flesh rippled and darkened as his arms, legs and head sank into his rapidly expanding torso. The hair from his head and beard split, grew and thickened into tentacles, body dissolving into a black mass of writhing flesh. After a moment, hundreds of long tentacles boiled around a form in the center that couldn't be clearly seen, and the whole thing was almost as big as a young dragon. Balin bellowed and fell backward and Ori sprinted out of the hall screaming. The princes were immobilised, staring in shock with their mouths hanging open. Thorin felt faint with horror. Gror was in love with _this_? Speaking of Gror, his laugh was loud and echoing as his mate's other form sank back into itself and resumed the shape of the pale dwarf that had come in. Farin was pale with a disgusted expression, clearly having seen this particular show before, but Gror was wiping his eyes weakly. "Never gets old, seeing everyone's face when he does that." He grabbed Klûk as the dwarf glided by and kissed him soundly, getting only a sour look in return. "Best friend a miner could have in the deep places, too. Could lift me up thirty feet off the floor to dig, catch me when I fell, convince anything else I found to leave me alone... not to mention being damn good company," he said, hugging the pale "dwarf" against himself. Thorin's eyes cut to Farin, who was clearly putting a good face on his opinion of the situation. "Took care of a whole orcish raiding party once by himself."

"Truly a unique and powerful partner," Thorin said weakly, feeling Bilbo trembling beside him. He patted the hobbit comfortingly on the shoulder, pulling him closer.

"Best part is," Gror said, eyes twinkling like a mischievous child, "even Mahal was shocked when I came to fetch him! Mahal himself! I shocked our Maker, what more could a dwarf want?" He laughed delightedly, confirming Thorin's earlier assessment. Gror son of Fror was clearly a troublemaker to his very bones. Balin eyed him in obvious disfavor, but the miner paid it no mind at all. "So, Master Baggins," he finally said, turning to the hobbit, "do you understand why the mirror is so big now? Any other questions you might have?" Bilbo's spluttered denials amused Gror, but made Thorin decide that he had no real love for this miner, relative or no.

Farin finally sighed. "Gror, you're being an ass again," he yelled, interrupting the miner's amusement. "Let's go talk to the old crew, now you're back out of the deep holes. Klûk, bring him along?" Gror opened his mouth, but the hand of his One urged him along. "It was well to meet you, Thorin king of Erebor, and the rest of you as well. Be welcome in the halls of Durin III as you have made me welcome in yours, should you wish to explore. We bid you farewell for now," and without another word, Farin and Klûk escorted the scoffing miner out. Silence lingered after they had left, until Ori burst back into the hall with a mattock the size of himself.

"Are you... where is it? What...?" Fili and Kili went and took the mattock, guiding Ori to a chair while giggling. Bilbo was staring at the door where they had left, acting as though he hadn't even noticed Ori's return.

"My love, if I might offer some advice," Thorin finally said, reaching out and turning Bilbo's face towards him. The hobbit nodded absently, expression a combination of worried and thoughtful. "Perhaps not all curiosity needs to be satisfied." The laughter from everyone present was likely heard throughout the Mountainhalls.

**Author's Note:**

> Tolkien had Gandalf state in the Two Towers that "We fought far under the living earth, where time is not counted. Ever [the Balrog] clutched me, and ever I hewed him, till at last he fled into dark tunnels. They were not made by Durin’s folk, Gimli son of Glóin. Far, far below the deepest delving of the Dwarves, the world is gnawed by nameless things. Even Sauron knows them not. They are older than he. Now I have walked there, but I will bring no report to darken the light of day."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Burned by the heat of the forge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612452) by [Tamloid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamloid/pseuds/Tamloid)




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